


My Pace, Your Lace

by freaky_hanyou



Category: Free!
Genre: Birthday Sex, Bottom Nanase Haruka, Fluff and Smut, Lingerie, M/M, Mirror Sex, Nanase Haruka & Tachibana Makoto & Tokyo, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Some Implied Asakisu, Top Tachibana Makoto, a little bit of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 01:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21438292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freaky_hanyou/pseuds/freaky_hanyou
Summary: This was more than what he’d had been expecting by far. Asahi had recommended it so Haru had tried it, thinking that Makoto might be pleased at best, or more likely they’d just have a good laugh about it together. However as soon as Haru had looked in the mirror, he’d figured that this wasn’t going to work—it wasn’t funny, it was stupid, and there was no way that Makoto would find this outfit attractive…Well. Clearly he’d been wrong.
Relationships: Nanase Haruka/Tachibana Makoto
Comments: 8
Kudos: 142





	My Pace, Your Lace

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyy It’s Makoto’s birthday!! And what better way to celebrate than a new edition to the trash can lolol
> 
> Ahem. In celebration, I humbly present this installment of the _MakoHaruMako Songs: Lingerie Series._ ^.^ <strike>See what I did there do you see it</strike>
> 
> Series, you say? I don’t know what you’re talking about :p
> 
> And I have a reference for the design of the top of Haru’s lingerie, if you'd like some visual aid (warning this is male lingerie lol), just for the top only though: [here.](https://www.dropbox.com/s/30gexyefhy9dxry/BobbiC04web_large.jpg?dl=0&m=)
> 
> Enjoy!!

_This is stupid, _Haru thought as he stared at himself in the mirror in his and Makoto’s bedroom. _I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea…_

This all started because he’d wanted to do something special for Makoto’s birthday, but he couldn’t figure out what. He always made dinner and a cake, but he really wanted to think of something _unique,_ something that Makoto would remember. When he’d made some offhanded comment about it to Asahi in the locker room one day, Asahi had blushingly suggested he try something special to switch up their…_bedroom activities:_

_“Switch it up?” Haru asked as he shut his locker door, considering the idea. They often did stuff to ‘switch it up,’ but if Asahi had something in mind that was new for them, then that could definitely be an option. “But how, exactly? Did you have an idea in mind?”_

_Asahi’s blush darkened as he once again checked to make sure no one else was around. “Well…for my birthday, Kisumi wore some…lingerie for me. Maybe you should try it.” His words ended in a mumble, clearly mortified he was even saying this. But he wanted to help his friend, and Kisumi’s little surprise had indeed worked **really well.**_

** **

_Haru blinked, nonplussed. “Lingerie? Really?” Asahi nodded. Haru wondered if that was something Makoto would like, too. “I’ll think about it. Thanks, Asahi.”_

After thinking it over, Haru had decided it was worth a shot. And after a little bit of secret online shopping, here Haru stood on Makoto’s birthday, in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom, sporting lacy baby blue and white lingerie.

The top was held on by two blue ribbons: one tied at his throat like a choker necklace, and the other tied around the middle of his chest like a crop top. The material between them was divided at the bottom so that one small triangle of bare chest was visible above the center of the bottom ribbon; the top edges of the material also cut diagonally on each side from under his arms up to the top ribbon. This created two large sections of material that started as one piece at his neck before it split to spread like a wide, upside-down ‘V’ across his pecs. And this material was simple: a soft, delicate white lace. It spread out in intricate swirls and patterns across his chest, covering him but not actually covering anything at all—merely providing seductive glimpses of the smooth skin beneath.

The bottoms were short, boyshort-style underwear, and they too were made almost entirely of lace: there was one blue ribbon around his hips, and one at the end of each leg. Two final thin pieces of ribbon framed his cock, and in between them the lace was denser, providing _slightly_ more coverage than the rest of the underwear—which was made up of the same swirls and patterns as the top...which meant it covered absolutely nothing else. The lace accentuated the toned muscles of his thighs, the well-defined shape of his rear. And to top it all off, sheer white stockings were clipped up to the bottom of the boyshorts by thin blue suspender-style garter clips, two per leg.

Really, he looked ridiculous.

Haru sighed. He couldn’t fathom what had made him think this was a good idea. He reached up to untie the upper ribbon of the top; he’d have to come up with something else and quick—

“Haru?”

Haru jumped and looked to the door, surprised to see Makoto standing there looking equally as surprised as he. His jaw was slack, and his eyes were everywhere, taking in every inch of Haru’s scantily-clad appearance.

Haru blushed deeply as he turned to face him completely, trying valiantly to maintain his composure but failing miserably. It certainly didn’t help when he heard Makoto suck in a sharp breath once he was treated with a full frontal view of Haru’s appearance.

“Idiot Makoto,” Haru sputtered, “Why didn’t you say you were home?”

“I…didn’t realize you were here,” Makoto replied in a daze; he was still frozen to the spot. “Haru…what…?”

Haru let out another sigh. “Happy birthday,” he said with a halfhearted, downward cast to his voice; he broke eye contact, unable to look Makoto in the eye as he explained, “Asahi gave me the idea to wear this to surprise you, but now that I put it on I see how stupid it looks…I’m sorry,” he apologized, reaching one again to undo the top ribbon.

“No!” Makoto was finally spurred into action, lunging forward to stop Haru’s hand and prevent him from taking off the lingerie. _“Don’t.”_

Haru looked up at him, raising a questioning eyebrow. “You…like this?” he asked, and Makoto nodded fervently before he took hold of Haru tightly by the shoulders, pushing him slightly away from him.

“Don’t move. Let me look you over…please.” Haru swallowed but nodded, unable to ignore the wave of anticipation that washed over him as he allowed Makoto to circle him slowly, to devour him with his eyes. He was almost certain his blush reached halfway down his chest at this point, but Makoto didn’t seem to care. On the contrary, his attention was fixed upon every curve, every muscle that was accentuated by the lace. Makoto walked behind him and let out an audible gasp, momentarily affixed in place by the view before him. On top, besides the ribbon at his neck, only a few inches of lace cut across his mid back—leaving almost every bit of his toned upper body bare to Makoto’s gaze. His bottom half, however, filled Makoto with a level of desire and want he could only just barely control. Haru’s rear was covered entirely in delicate swirls of white lace that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and his sheer white stockings hugged his long, slender legs to perfection. Makoto itched to caress them, to run his hands over the fabric, up, up, all the way up to Haru’s shapely, firm, _perfect_ rear end.

“Haru,” Makoto croaked, his voice hoarse; he swallowed and tried again. “Haru,” Makoto began, taking Haru by the shoulders again and maneuvering him so that he stood in front of the mirror. Makoto stood close behind him, his body sensually brushing up against his. “You look _amazing,”_ he murmured in a low voice, directly into Haru’s ear.

Haru didn’t think he was capable of blushing any harder, but apparently he was wrong; he could feel his ears burning, sizzling from the heat of Makoto’s ardent praise. His every word blazed through Haru before pooling like liquid fire in his belly—he could already feel stirrings of arousal down below, and Makoto had barely touched him. “…Really?” Haru couldn’t help but ask, despite the fact that Makoto’s body itself seemed to be vocalizing an unequivocal _yes._ This was more than what he’d had been expecting by far. Asahi had recommended it so Haru had tried it, thinking that Makoto might be pleased at best, or more likely they’d just have a good laugh about it together. However as soon as Haru had looked in the mirror, he’d figured that this wasn’t going to work—it wasn’t funny, it was stupid, and there was no way that Makoto would find this outfit attractive…

Well. Clearly he’d been wrong. 

“Really,” Makoto insisted, his hands sliding down from Haru’s shoulders to grasp his upper arms as his lips moved to Haru’s neck. “You look…irresistible.” His lips started to drop to his neck, but Haru turned to look up at him instead, _still_ unable to accept it.

_“Really?”_ Haru repeated his question in emphasis; really, he simply couldn’t fathom why this was so alluring.

Makoto smiled patiently in reply, switching tactics and rubbing their noses together instead. “Haru, if you came home from practice one day, and I was dressed in something similar, what would you think?”

A sudden vision of Makoto flashed across his mind’s eye—he was dressed in nothing but tantalizing scraps of dark green silk, blushing like mad but at the same time flushed with pleasure and arousal—

_Oh._

“Oh,” Haru whispered quietly, turning his head away and back towards the mirror.

“Mm,” Makoto agreed, his lips now finding their original destination against Haru’s neck, leaving scalding kisses down to the junction where neck met shoulder. “Exactly. So let me enjoy your gift to me, Haruka, please? You won’t regret it.”

Haru finally gave him a small nod, and he surrendered to the sensations coursing through his body that would no longer be ignored. He tried to turn towards Makoto, but Makoto’s grip held firm on his upper arms, keeping him facing the mirror.

“Let me watch.” Haru’s eyes widened but after a beat he nodded again, allowing Makoto to have free reign of his birthday present as he wished. Makoto’s arms dropped down to Haru’s hips as he stepped flush against Haru, his hard arousal rubbing suggestively against Haru’s lower back.

Makoto looked over Haru’s shoulder at their reflection in the mirror as he drew his fingers smoothly up Haru’s abdomen, stopping at the base of the lingerie top. Haru found himself automatically raising his arms out of Makoto’s way, reaching back to clasp both hands around the back of Makoto’s neck. The maneuver only emphasized Haru’s chest further, and Makoto sucked in a sharp breath, needing to explore, to touch, taste, _anything,_ as long as it was _right now._

Makoto started to trace the lacy patterns with each index finger, applying nothing but a gentle pressure that sent tingles through Haru’s torso. Haru’s breathing quickened as Makoto continued, leisurely following the trails of lace, drawing torturous lines across Haru’s chest. Haru’s eyes watched Makoto’s fingers in the mirror, silently begging them to do more as his breathing rapidly grew more labored. “Haru, look at me,” Makoto said huskily, and Haru’s gaze shot to Makoto’s in the mirror. Makoto gave him a slow, lascivious grin as one finger finally traced up enough lace to reach Haru’s nipple; he traced the hard nub that poked up through the fabric with his finger, and Haru let out a gasp.

“Makoto,” Haru said breathlessly, his grip tightening on Makoto’s neck. His eyes slid to Makoto’s finger again, watching as it did nothing but flick over his nipple gently, over and over again.

“Look at me, Haru,” Makoto said again, and Haru dragged his eyes back up. “I want to watch you come apart.”

At that, Makoto squeezed his nipple between thumb and forefinger, and Haru let out a small moan, his knees buckling slightly. Makoto’s other hand stopped its teasing and wrapped around his stomach, giving him extra support to stay standing.

“Makoto,” Haru whispered, his gaze locked with Makoto’s in the mirror. He didn’t say anything else, but Makoto heard what Haru needed loud and clear.

“I want you to watch yourself, Haru,” Makoto said as his hand moved to the other nipple; he rubbed the peaked nub in rhythmic circles with an occasional tug, causing Haru to gasp and moan quiet, broken syllables of his name. “I want you to see what I see; I want you to see for yourself just how irresistible you are.” Makoto’s lips fell to Haru’s neck again as his hand caressed and played with Haru’s nipples, teasing and tormenting him until he could scarcely breathe. He looked at his own expression, amazed at the face he was making. His eyes were glazed with pleasure, making the deep blue of his irises almost impossible to look away from. His lips were parted as he breathed heavily, which only further highlighted how kissable they were. And his cheeks were splashed with a fevered blush, turning his skin a delectable shade of pink. Haru had to agree that overall the effect looked pretty sexy. Did he always look like this?

“Yes, you always look like this,” Makoto murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Haru’s cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

Though Makoto’s tender words caused Haru’s flush to deepen, he couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed at this point. His debauched appearance, Makoto’s sincere proclamations, none of it could hold his focus for too long anymore…because right now, he could only think about one thing.

“Makoto please, _please_ keep going,” he said on a gasp, his gaze falling to Makoto’s nimble, talented fingers.

Makoto nodded and stepped back, pulling completely away from Haru’s grip on his neck while he slowly let go of him to ensure that Haru didn’t fall. He came around to Haru’s front and knelt before him, his eyes making a slow journey up Haru’s sensual, stocking-clad legs up to his alluring, lacy bottoms. Haru’s erection pressed insistently against the denser arrangement of lace in the center, practically begging Makoto for his attention. And Makoto was more than willing to oblige…eventually.

Makoto’s lips found the inside of Haru’s right thigh, just above the knee. He pressed slow, meaningful kisses in a trail upwards on the smooth fabric while one hand began to tease Haru’s other thigh with gentle, leisurely caresses. In response, Haru’s hands slid into Makoto’s hair and squeezed gently; not enough to hurt, but enough to let Makoto know that he was paying _very_ close attention. Small noises of need escaped Haru’s mouth as Makoto’s lips moved closer to the bottoms of his outfit. Once Makoto reached the top edge of the stocking, he turned his attention to the small stripe of bare skin underneath the ribbons that clipped it to the bottoms. He licked around the front of Haru’s thigh, lapping at the exposed patch of skin.

_“Hnngh,_ Makoto sta-_ah_, stop that,” Haru chastised weakly, but Makoto could hear what he really meant: _More, Makoto, please give me **more.** _Makoto smirked lustfully and pulled back from Haru’s legs.

“Remember, Haru,” Makoto said as he looked up into Haru’s ravished expression; the silent entreaty reflected in his endless blue eyes only underscored the desire that Makoto had already heard in Haru’s words. “Watch yourself in the mirror; see how gorgeous you are when you cry out my name.” 

Haru wondered what Makoto planned to do for one second before Makoto leaned forward, nuzzling his face to Haru’s covered erection. “Ah!” he cried out, and both of Makoto’s hands came to Haru’s hips, trying to provide what little support he could as he rubbed against Haru’s arousal, intimately acquainting himself with the lacy fabric. Makoto paused long enough to look up and lock eyes with Haru, who was watching him closely while biting his lip. Haru felt his erection twitch against Makoto’s cheek as he stared into those piercing green eyes, darkened with desire. He didn’t need to be able to read Makoto’s mind to understand the message that Makoto wanted to convey:

_Remember what I said._

Haru couldn’t help but let out another moan before he tore his eyes away, looking forward at himself in the mirror. Makoto smiled and returned to his work; he upped his nuzzling game by sneaking in little licks through the holes in the thick lace, further stimulating the sensitive skin of Haru’s cock with wet, glancing swipes.

_“Haah,_ Makoto,” Haru gasped, almost looking down but remembering in the last moment to stay facing forward. He watched his own blush deepen, saw his own shoulders heaving as he tried and failed to catch his breath. His expression grew more and more deliciously aroused with each flick of Makoto’s tongue, and within moments Haru could see the thought that dominated his mind clearly reflected in his half-lidded eyes: _Oh god, Makoto, **please.**_

Haru wanted to look away from the mirror, but he knew that he couldn’t. The act of watching himself just made his entire body hotter, made his erection harder. He felt Makoto lick the ridge of the head of his cock through the lace, and he let out a long, frustrated moan. His fingers started to twitch on the back of Makoto’s head; he desperately wanted to encourage Makoto to do _something_ more, but he would never force him. It was a sweet, sweet torture that Makoto knew Haru would never set himself free from, knew that he would instead only respond with gasps and pants of his name, growing louder and louder in volume until—

“M-Makoto, _please,_ if you don’t touch me I might—_mmngh,”_ Haru groaned in surprise as Makoto abruptly pulled the lace bottoms down to Haru’s thighs and sucked the head of his erection into his mouth. Makoto’s hands slid from Haru’s hips around to his rear, holding him securely in place as he slowly worked his erection further past his lips.

“Yes, _Makoto—aah, Makoto…” _Haru moaned wantonly, forgetting to look at himself as his eyes moved to Makoto, unable to keep himself away from him any longer. Makoto simply locked eyes with him in response and gradually started a torturous, tantalizing rhythm that he knew Haru both hated and couldn’t get enough of. One of his hands slid up front briefly to rub at the base of Haru’s leaking cock, both adding to Haru’s pleasure as well as slicking up his fingers. Said hand then returned to Haru’s rear, pushing between his cheeks to press two fingers into his entrance. The steady cadence of Makoto’s ministrations stalled for a moment as his hand met no resistance; of course Haru had already stretched and prepared himself for him. Makoto moaned against Haru’s cock at the realization, speeding up his pace and sucking harder when he pulled back to the tip. His fingers easily slid further in to reach Haru’s prostate, rubbing it in time with his impassioned movements.

“Makoto, _Makoto,_ I-If you keep going, I, _I’m—!”_ Makoto gave Haru’s cock one last long suck before he pulled his mouth and fingers away, his grip quickly shifting back to Haru’s hips to help keep him steady—just as Makoto had anticipated, Haru’s strength almost completely left him at the loss, and he could barely keep himself upright; without Makoto’s steady hands, he would have surely fallen hard. Instead, Makoto guided Haru gently down onto his knees so that they knelt in front of each other on the carpet.

“Not yet, Haruka,” Makoto murmured in a husky voice, setting Haru’s nerves ablaze, “You can’t come until I do. It’s _my_ birthday after all.”

Haru moaned unabashedly at the sinful command before he nodded his assent. Makoto’s arms encircled Haru’s waist, and he pulled him flush against him, devouring his mouth with his own as he teasingly rubbed his erection against Haru’s. Haru whined against his lips and wrapped his arms around Makoto’s shoulders; the muted feel of Makoto’s arousal through the fabric of his pants only left Haru wanting more. He eventually pulled back for air, blue eyes pleading with green. 

“Makoto,” Haru said in a quiet, desperate voice. Makoto leaned in to kiss him one more time before he pulled away—he was at his limit, too.

“Come here, Haru,” Makoto said, and he took Haru’s hand and pulled him forward, guiding him so that he was on hands and knees in front of the mirror. After ripping off his clothes at a speed that would make Haru proud, Makoto positioned himself behind Haru, kneeling between Haru’s widespread legs before sheathing himself deep within him without a second thought. Haru groaned in both relief and surprise from the sudden sensation of feeling so full so quickly; he shakily dropped from his hands to rest on his forearms, struggling to keep his lower half completely upright.

Makoto helped by pulling Haru’s hips as close as he could before he started a rhythm that drove both of them mad. He groaned and bit his lip, allowing himself to speed up _just_ a bit more…but he wanted this to last. Yes, he wanted Haru to see how he looked when they were intimate together, but he also wanted to take in Haru’s every gasp and shudder, his body language, his every expression, all of it—from this new mirrored angle for as long as he could. He could never get enough of Haru, could never get enough of his body, his heart, his very self. And with such a mind-blowing surprise for his birthday present, Makoto could quickly lose control of himself, but no; he wanted this to be something that both he and Haru would remember for a long, long time. He wanted them both to enjoy this—to enjoy each other.

Makoto always seized every opportunity he could to express to Haru just how much he loved him, whether it be something simple or elaborate, through words or actions. So during their love making of _any_ kind, he tried to utilize all of the above, to the best of his ability. And he knew that _Haru_ knew that everything he did, every word, every touch and caress—it was all for him.

Makoto’s hips kept up their pace as his upper body bent downward to curl over Haru’s, bracing himself so that he covered him like a well-fitting glove. Haru felt him shift and turned to his left, bringing his eyes up from the floor to meet Makoto’s gaze.

Makoto gave him a smile through his panting breaths. “Haru-chan, look at us,” he said ardently, gesturing with his chin towards the mirror. “See what you look like.”

Haru moaned and looked forward at the mirror again. He saw the desperate look in his eyes, saw the air huff out of his mouth at each of Makoto’s deep thrusts. However, his eyes were almost immediately drawn up to the man above him, whose gaze he could feel like a scalding caress, even through the reflection in the mirror. Sweat gathered at his brow and he panted with exertion, but his expressive green eyes remained fixed on Haru’s, as if there was nothing and no one else in the world. Haru couldn’t look away if he wanted to…and he certainly didn’t want to. He tried to speak, wanting Makoto to go _faster, harder Makoto please,_ but only endless gasps and moans came out of his mouth. But Makoto always knew what Haru wanted. Haru both saw and felt Makoto shift his hips the tiniest bit, and his vision tilted as Makoto began to slam each thrust directly into his prostate.

_“Makoto!” _Haru shouted, unable to look away from Makoto in the mirror as he felt oblivion suddenly hurtling towards him. But he couldn’t, not _yet; _Makoto_, _he _said_—

“S-Stop, I’m going to—!” Haru broke off, his cries increasing in volume, and Makoto leaned all of his weight onto his left hand; he reached under Haru’s hips and gripped the base of Haru’s erection, holding it just tight enough to prevent Haru from falling over the edge. Haru broke eye contact in surprise, hips immediately bucking forward on reflex; his wanton cries became uncontrollable as he teetered on the edge of bliss, helpless under the relentless onslaught of Makoto’s hips, yet bound by the steady grip of his hand.

_“Not yet, Haruka,”_ Makoto repeated his earlier statement, except this time his words were a low groan of passion; as his own orgasm rapidly approached, his breath came in quick, labored pants that inadvertently teased the shell of Haru’s ear—and the added sensation sent the last shred of Haru’s ability to think flying straight out the window.

_“Makoto,_ **_Makoto!”_** Haru’s unceasing cries of his name were music to Makoto’s ears as he quickly felt himself start to unravel. He tugged at Haru’s ear with his teeth to get his attention; letting go of Haru’s erection, he reached to angle Haru’s chin and lips towards him, stretching as far forward as he could to kiss him roughly.

_“Haruka,”_ Makoto moaned deeply against his lips, and Haru felt his orgasm begin, completely overwhelmed by Makoto’s pistoning hips, his sheltering body, his masterful tongue, his…his _everything. _Haru was just barely able to keep his body from collapsing entirely, and within moments he distantly registered the warm sensation that meant Makoto had reached his climax as well. But then the speed of Makoto’s hips suddenly increased sharply—Haru screamed into Makoto’s mouth, his pleasure spiking even higher, his every nerve-ending fine-tuned to the movements of Makoto’s hips. Makoto inadvertently bit Haru’s bottom lip as he groaned in pleasure, his body demanding from Haru all that he could give him—and Haru was willing to give him everything. But in a few more heartbeats Haru’s strength gave out, and he broke the kiss as he dropped down onto the carpet with a light ‘thump;’ he rested his cheek on the carpet, eyes closed as he came back down to Earth. 

Makoto caught himself with both hands, forcing himself not to collapse on top of Haru. Instead he laid gently over top of him, leaving a loving trail of kisses over his upper back and shoulders. However, when Haru didn’t respond, or even move a little, Makoto grew concerned that he’d pushed Haru too far.

“Haru? Haru, are you okay?” Makoto asked worriedly, nuzzling at Haru’s cheek with his nose. With great effort, Haru tried to nuzzle him back, but it didn’t really work—his other cheek was firmly planted to the floor, and he didn’t have any energy to lift his head yet.

Haru looked up at Makoto out of the corner of his eye. “‘m fine,” he said, his voice slightly slurred, “I just…need a minute.” 

Makoto continued to bathe him in gentle kisses, shifting seamlessly into his tender, caring mode. Haru couldn’t help but let out a small huff of laughter at the quick shift.

Makoto paused in his attentions, bringing his face up so he looked over Haru’s. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” Haru replied before he finally managed to move, starting to sit up gradually. Makoto moved off of him and guided him up into a sitting position, sitting next to him while keeping one arm around his upper back for support. Haru knew Makoto would question him further, so before Makoto could open his mouth he continued to explain, “I was just thinking about how quickly you…_shift gears.”_

Makoto blushed a deep red. “I…I did push you pretty hard, so I was worried…” Haru cut him off by leaning over to give him a quick kiss.

“Idiot Makoto, I didn’t say it was a bad thing. It’s cute. And I’m grateful.” He turned and leaned his back against the crook of Makoto’s shoulder, and Makoto’s arm folded protectively over Haru’s body as he let out a happy sigh.

There was a moment of comfortable silence before Haru spoke again. “And you were _really_ sexy, too.”

Makoto’s blush immediately fired up again. “Haru!”

Haru simply shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?” He sat up, breaking Makoto’s hold so he could turn and face him once more. “You’re cute,” he said, dropping a kiss to Makoto’s cheek, “sexy,” he kissed the other cheek, “caring, kind…the whole nine yards.” He kissed Makoto firmly on the lips as if to punctuate his point.

Makoto’s blush persisted, but he knew better than to try to be modest and deny Haru’s opinion. “Look who’s talking,” Makoto fired back instead, and it was Haru’s turn to blush, his cheeks turning a light pink. “Haru-chan is cute _and_ sexy, and gorgeous and thoughtful and—”

Haru stopped him with a finger to his lips. “Okay, okay, I get it. Let’s just agree with each other then.” Makoto nodded, and Haru removed his finger.

“May I add one more thing?” Makoto asked.

Haru nodded. “Only one.”

“I love you.”

Haru lips turned up in a soft, affectionate smile. “I love you, too.” His body seemed to move on its own, moving close to Makoto once more for another sweet, gentle kiss. Their lips parted, and they stared fondly at each other, simply basking in one another’s presence.

Haru finally moved to stand up, breaking from the steadfast warmth of Makoto’s adoring gaze. Makoto quickly got up to help, offering support and a steady hand to hold. Once he found his balance, Haru looked down at his mussed appearance—the lingerie was still (mostly) intact, but it definitely needed a wash…and so did he.

“Would you help me get out of this?” Haru asked, and Makoto nodded, following Haru’s instruction as to how to remove the top.

“Thank you for my present, Haru; I really liked it…” he heard Makoto say as he worked, his words trailing away; in the silence, Haru could plainly hear the question that Makoto was trying to build up the courage to ask. 

“Yes, Makoto, I’ll wear it again, whenever you want. And you’re welcome.”

Makoto burst into an exhilarated smile, blushing prettily as the remaining clothing fell to the floor and the two headed for the bathroom. “Really?”

“Really…but only if you wear some for me.”

Makoto stuttered in surprise, his faint blush once again evolving into a deep red. “…I’ll look into it,” he murmured quietly, not quite meeting Haru’s eyes.

Haru openly grinned as the two readied the bath together. He’d have to thank Asahi later—this had _definitely _been a good idea.

\---((The End!))---

**Author's Note:**

> Wooo just in the nick of time! This is the last chance that I’ll have to upload this before Makoto’s birthday, so I really really wanted to finish it XP
> 
> Is it bad that I’m already concerned my Christmas fic won’t be done in time? Lol I really want it done by the end of the year, so here’s hoping.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, I’d love to hear from you!
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
~freaky-hanyou


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